Hurt
by cheesydiva
Summary: When Travis has an accident, no one knows what to do--especially Travis.
1. The Beginning

I don't know where I am. I scream and I kick and I cry for release. Nothing responds, I am no longer in control. How do I get out of here? I want my body back. I want this mental panic to go away. How do I do that?  
My ears still work, though I can only make sense of every other conversation. I will hear sobbing, begging, for someone named Travis. Am I Travis?  
Whoever Travis is, he is lonely. Only eight voices. Eight separate different voices. No more, no less.  
I get sleepy, though I don't know how this is possible. If I can't control my body how come I still get sleepy? And if I get sleepy, why can't I feel anything?  
Emotions.  
When I get sleepy I escape. I escape the crying, the tears, and most of all the begging. I escape to the purple mountains in the distance. When I get there, I see signs, like the kind you see on the side of the road. One says "London" another says "Hong Kong" another says "Roscoe". I don't make sense of it; it's all a swirl of letters and colors.  
But other signs actually elicit a response from me. Not emotional responses, but responses nonetheless. "Radio Free Roscoe", "friends" "Lily Ray and Robbie." I don't understand.  
All I know is that when I make sense of this all, I am going to give my mother a big hug. Because, in some un-emotional way, I miss her.  
  
The waiting room was filled with six people. No more, no less.  
Three of them stood off to the side, huddled around each other, trying to keep each other warm, and support the others emotionally.  
And to keep each other warm. They didn't heat this part of the hospital.  
The old lady from across the room walked over to the small group. Her eyes hadn't recovered from the crying she obviously had been doing. She attempted a smile, but only ended up bursting in tears. As she passed them by, she gave the nearest one a pat on the shoulder. It was obviously meant for comfort.  
They weren't comforted much. Her son had just died.  
And then there were five.  
The person that the old woman had patted turned around and headed toward the bathroom. The entire waiting room heard him throwing up. The young man's name was Robbie McGrath. His friend's names were Lily Randall and Ray Brennan.  
Somewhere in the distance, the clearing of a throat shook all five people out of their reveries. The doctor. Finally.  
"So. . . uh. . ." he was young and obviously felt uncertain that it was his place to tell them any news. He cleared his throat again and tried again, "Well. . . uh. . . Travis. . . yeah. . . he uh, isn't out of the woods." The young doctor suddenly gained confidence in the fact that he could give them good news, "but he is stabilized, and is exhibiting symptoms that show that there is little if any brain damage."  
Several of them sighed in relief, others looks of worry were intensified.  
It was a way to tell the difference between an optimist and a pessimist.  
  
I can feel myself slipping away. Slipping away to the purple mountains. But I can't. There's someone here, someone familiar.  
He talks, not as though I was a person, which I guess I am, but as though I was a dead body. Not worth the spit he was wasting. I assume he was talking to me.  
"I'm sorry Travis, but I'd rather not feel the pain this time." He whispered, but it clouded my head with echoes. Stop STOP STOP!  
Something's snapped inside my body, and I felt something, it's.it was anger, but not really, it was a kind of synthetic anger or something close to it. I felt synthetic anger toward this person who is kicking Travis, who might be me, out of his life.  
But it's too late for questions, because I'm slipping away. The purple mountains are calling my name, and it's time for a well-deserved rest.  
  
Somewhere around two o'clock in the morning, the group of three had moved into the hospital cafeteria to warm up, and maybe get a bite to eat.  
But none of them felt like eating.  
Robbie and Lily sat around a circular table and watched as Ray paced, sat down, stood up, and began to pace again. Every once in a while he would mutter something that he didn't understand himself.  
Muttering was something he could do with his mouth.  
"Maybe we should. . . uh. . . get some food, y'know?" Ray asked tentatively.  
It was an awkward question, but at least it was something.  
"I can't. It's a big job to keep from throwing up on an empty stomach." Robbie answered.  
"Yeah." Ray agreed and began pacing again. So Ray paced, Robbie watched, Lily looked out the window for another hour. "I just wanna run screaming out of this freaking place." Ray muttered. "Run, scream, yeah." Lily muttered.  
  
Sometimes, in the purple mountains, I feel a hand on my forehead. A warm, secure hand, that feels so familiar. When I reach for the hand, it's not there anymore, and my mental isolation is even more prominent.  
When I feel the hand, I feel safe, warm, loved.  
And sometimes, when I concentrate really hard, I hear her voice, and even in my confusion I know who it is.  
Mom, this is your little boy. You know your little boy don't you? I need help, I need answers, I need you.  
But when I call out for her, she disappears. And I am left on my own again. Why can't she help me?  
The question is not why she can't help me. Why can't I help myself? 


	2. Coming and Going

I loved loved LOVED writing the Robbie moments. Honestly, I've written at least half of this already and I still haven't explained how he got in his situation, but he is in a coma.  
  
Disclaimer- I love you Ray! WHY CAN'T I OWN YOU? Lol. I don't own you, I don't own Travis (darn) or Robbie (double darn) or Lily (uh. . .) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I gotta do it man. I just. . .can't. . . life is. . . life's too short man. I gotta- I just-and with what's happened, I gotta. But. . . but maybe not today, yeah, we're worried; she'll think I'm insensitive and crazy. God, tell her in a hospital, what-maybe I should just tell her later-"  
  
Robbie let Ray ramble. He probably would be rambling too, but he didn't have the energy. They had decided, together, as a group, that they wouldn't leave until the doctor came out again.  
  
They needed to eat, they needed to sleep, they desperately needed to take showers, but they had made a promise.  
  
Ray and Robbie were sitting in the corner nearest to the boy's bathroom. Lily sat on the opposite side, staring out the window. She hadn't focused on anyone since, well, since they had arrived here.  
  
Robbie and Ray were worried.  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Strong just sat there for hours. Mr. Strong looked devastated, but looked better after a short visit with Travis. Then they left, like that. Poof.  
  
Parents like David Copperfield.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I understand emotions, but for the time being, I can't feel them.  
  
Isn't that weird.  
  
Maybe it's just me.  
  
I understand that emotionally, family is a loosely tied word.  
  
Love has been very loosely tied.  
  
Pain and Betrayal. . . but hurt. . . hurt is not loosely tied. Hurt is like a friend--no a stalker. Yeah, hurt is an ever-present stalker.  
  
I understand that I have felt these emotions, but I don't feel them now. And I don't know why I once felt them.  
  
I don't even know my name.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It had been an hour since the doctor came and went. He had both good news and bad news. The good news was that there had been no change.  
  
The bad news was that there had been no change.  
  
"Robbie left." Ray said, and Lily nodded vaguely.  
  
Ray sighed and sat down beside her, "Look Lily, this is not your fault, accidents. . . well. . . accidents happen." Another vague nod, "and you're not even listening to me." He leaned back into his seat and covered his eyes. He hadn't realized this would be so hard. "We should leave."  
  
"I don't wanna." She whispered.  
  
"Lily, the doctor said that if anything would-"  
  
"I don't like the idea of him being all alone!" She yelled, "His parents left, Robbie left, we're the only ones left Ray! Who's gonna be here if-"  
  
He knew that it was a stupid idea, he had done it to simply to shut her up. He kissed her. Ray kissed Lily. And soon the stupid idea turned into a vent for all his anger, his frustration, his nervousness and she didn't object. She kissed him back. Passionately.  
  
The seconds ticked by and they he that it would all have to end. He would have to return to the real world, return to a real situation, he knew it. So he held on to that moment, held on to her, until they could no longer breathe.  
  
But it had to end sometime.  
  
"Wow." he whispered breathily, putting his forehead against hers. She nodded.  
  
"We should leave." He whispered. And to his surprise Lily stood and walked calmly to the elevator. Leaving Ray confused and alone on the small couch.  
  
"Lily, wait up!" he yelled. And even with the situation being as it was, with one of his best friends being in the hospital, being without sleep for approximately twenty-five hours, and being sickened by the sights that you may find in a hospital waiting room, he found grounds for smiling.  
  
It was worth it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Robbie gulped. He didn't want to do this.  
  
But he had to.  
  
The station looked abandoned, almost ghostly. And walking into it was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.  
  
He picked at the peeling edge of one of the posters, one of the posters that Travis had made.  
  
He sighed. Why was this all so hard? Why did bad things have to happen?  
  
He walked over to his seat and sat. He put on the headphones and pretended that it was just another Thursday afternoon. Travis, Lily, Ray and him sitting around, poking fun at Waller and Kim Carlisle. Treating life like one big cupcake.  
  
Robbie leaned back in his seat. He never did like cupcakes.  
  
A wave of guilt washed over him as he remembered the arguments. Obviously it came with the friendship, friends disagree, and that's life.  
  
It didn't make him feel any better.  
  
As he looked over the small space he realized that these moments, where the ones that he would remember the most. And if worse turned worse, those moments might be gone forever.  
  
He stood and walked to Travis' seat.  
  
The main power switch had to be somewhere.  
  
He searched through all the main switches and buttons, turning a few of them on. Before finally finding it, he found an old picture of a woman in a flowery white dress, holding a five year old boy to her chest. He absentmindedly pocketed it.  
  
He sank into Travis' chair and waited for the clock to count down.  
  
"Dead air." He muttered, knowing no one could hear him.  
  
10. . . 9. . . 8. . . 7. . . 6. . . Robbie situated the microphone and whispered the last five seconds. . . and. . .  
  
"This is Radio Free Roscoe."  
  
Silence. . . it felt so weird to do this on his own.  
  
"I'm Question Mark and I'm wondering, what is life worth? Friendship? Family?  
  
"For today, we aren't taking any phone calls and we aren't playing any music. We just wanted to apologize for today and any other future broadcasts we may miss. For reasons beyond our control, we have no control. I'm sure you'll survive, but again, we apologize for letting you waste your time listening to dead air.  
  
For today, and maybe future broadcasts, this is Radio Free Roscoe, signing off."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
All I want is to get out of here.  
  
Maybe I want something more, but for now, my main priority is to leave.  
  
We all want something. Our deepest desires, well, we don't always get what we want, obviously.  
  
Maybe I'll get out of here.  
  
Maybe I won't.  
  
Maybe I'll die and won't have to worry about it anymore.  
  
All I want is to get out of here.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
  
Robbie felt sick.  
  
He threw the headphones off his head as if they carried some kind of disease.  
  
He had done what he came here to do, now all he wanted was to leave. He grabbed his bag off the floor and ran up the stairs. He ran until he had nowhere else to go.  
  
And then he fell, and let the exhaustion wash over him. 


	3. Reality

Lily had decided to go to Ray's house instead of going back home.  
  
"If they call, we both know at the same time and they don't waste time calling my house. Besides, you live closer to the hospital." Lily explained to him.  
  
So they sat in his house, an uncomfortable silence hanging over their heads.  
  
"We should get some sleep." Ray offered.  
  
"Yeah, maybe."  
  
"So, uh. . . you can sleep in my room, I'll sleep down here on the couch."  
  
"No, I feel guilty sleeping in your bed. I'll sleep down here."  
  
He took her hands, which she had been wringing, and told her honestly, "Look Lily, it's fine. You need sleep. I slept at the hospital. Besides, I normally fall asleep on the couch watching TV or something."  
  
She looked into his eyes and agreed, halfheartedly.  
  
"Good, well. . . I. . . uh. . . I'll get you something to sleep in." "Okay." He left and returned within the minute with a T-shirt and a pair of boxers, and apologized for having nothing else.  
  
"This is fine." She said honestly. She turned to change, but felt his hand on her wrist. He looked down, as though he were embarrassed, and muttered that they needed to talk.  
  
She smiled awkwardly, "um. . . okay Ray, but let me change first." And she turned toward the bathroom. Wondering.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
There are people in the mountains.  
  
Only not alive, more like mannequins.  
  
Some are really creepy.  
  
Some aren't.  
  
When I walk around, I see a girl, a pretty, blonde girl, holding a guitar. She looks like she is singing and doing what she loves to do.  
  
She's more than just a mannequin.  
  
Then there's a guy, laughing and causing everyone around him to laugh.  
  
He's more than just a mannequin.  
  
And there's another guy, looking like everything caused a question in his mind. A question that he was determined to find.  
  
He's more than just a mannequin.  
  
They're my friends.  
  
As weird as this may sound, I named them.  
  
The names just came to me, and they fit them well.  
  
Hello Shady Lane. Hello Pronto. Hello Question Mark.  
  
Welcome to my hell.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
When Robbie woke up he found himself safe and warm beneath his sheets.  
  
But the last thing he remembered was running, running until he just couldn't run anymore.  
  
He turned over in his bed and almost screamed.  
  
"DAD!" he yelled angrily, "What are you. . . Why are you in my room?"  
  
Bill McGrath smiled and patted down his own miniature Afro.  
  
"I'm not that scary looking am I?" He chuckled at his own joke.  
  
"Were you watching me sleep?"  
  
"A hobby I haven't taken up since you were three."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well mostly because you felt it was kind of awkward. . . Oh, not that. I'm in your room because Mickey called us about two hours ago and told us that you had fallen asleep outside of his store. He said you were scaring away customers." Bill smiled and tugged at a lock of Robbie's hair, "for the record, you smell really bad."  
  
Robbie let an awkward laugh escape his mouth. "Sorry, pent up energy."  
  
"Anyway, I heard Travis is in the hospital."  
  
"You heard right."  
  
"So, are you gonna tell me what's been going on?"  
  
Robbie sighed, "me and Ray and Lily were at the hospital all night, skipped school and didn't leave until five this morning so we could get some sleep. Did I leave anything out?"  
  
"No, that pretty much covers it." He sat on Robbie's and began absentmindedly playing with Robbie's hair.  
  
"Dad?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah Robs?"  
  
"Can you stop that?"  
  
Bill jumped back as if he had been burned, but then let his warm smile show that no harm had been done. "You know Robbie, I miss the days when I used to watch you sleep."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. You're growing up, and it's hard for your mother and me to deal with. You know, on your first week of kindergarten, you would come home and talk nonstop, for hours and hours. I think you told me everything- literally everything-that you had done. Robbie, I understand that you're not going to do that anymore."  
  
"Dad, I still tell you things."  
  
"I know, I know, but not everything-like Radio Free Roscoe." He added with a sly grin.  
  
Robbie's mouth dropped. "How long? Since when? How?" His mouth couldn't seem to form a full sentence.  
  
"I heard it on the radio one day. That's what you get when you have a two hour 'business drive'."  
  
"But Travis-the voice scrambler-"  
  
"You think I wouldn't know my own son's voice?"  
  
Robbie sighed.  
  
The man knew it all.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I am my own prisoner.  
  
The man in the iron mask.  
  
I don't even know how I remembered that.  
  
It's like I understand the basics. Basic memories and stupid things that I know I'll never use.  
  
At least not in this position.  
  
Her voice is getting louder.  
  
Mom! MOM! Listen to me. Help me.  
  
I'm going crazy, that's the only explanation. I am absolutely insane.  
  
But she's screaming for me. Telling me to leave and save myself. Telling me she loves me, that she will always love me. Even after she's. . .  
  
Gone.  
  
I have a new question, but I'm not sure that I'm ready to head in that direction yet. I'd rather just delude myself that she is speaking from the outside, one of the eight outer voices that I hear every hour.  
  
I'd rather think that everything was normal. At least for now.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
God, what was taking her so long? He needed to apologize. And the guilt was beginning to gnaw on his insides.  
  
He threw his head against the table and mentally berated himself for letting his emotions get the better of him.  
  
"How could I have kissed her?" he asked himself in the cool silence.  
  
"I don't know." Lily said from the door, "but I'm glad you did."  
  
"Yeah.about that, I'm-what? You. . . you're glad?" The past two days events were beginning to put a wear-and-tear on his brain, he was obviously hearing things.  
  
She moved closer to him and put her arms around his neck.  
  
. . . and seeing things. . .  
  
She pressed her lips against his and he felt his heart rate pick up.  
  
. . . and feeling things. . .  
  
But he was going to enjoy this fantasy. Besides, didn't the word fantasy derive from fantastic?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Have you ever tried to explore your mind? Delve through your subconscious and reach small facts that you never knew you'd retained?  
  
In my "waking hours," if you can call them that, that's all I try to do. I try to find something small that may reawaken me, my memory.  
  
But it's like my mind is trying to hide something from me. Like there is a brick wall between me. . . and me.  
  
I feel like all I have are my bare hands to chip away at this wall.  
  
Where are the power tools when you need them?  
  
Because whatever is on the other side, whether or not I want to know what it is, I know that I need to know, to understand.  
  
It might be my key to solving the riddle.  
  
The riddle being how can I escape my own body?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He kissed her back, like his life depended on it. He pressed his body against hers and they stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, days. Time didn't seem to function the same way anymore. All that mattered was that he was kissing Lily.  
  
She deepened the kiss and he heard her moan. This is what he wanted. Life was good, life was very very good.  
  
But life wasn't good. How could he be standing here, kissing Lily, when one of his other best friends was lying in a coma?  
  
He pulled away from her, and immediately felt a loss of warmth.  
  
Lily looked at him, annoyed, "What's wrong Ray?" she made an attempt to kiss him again, which he dodged.  
  
"This is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong! You're just upset, and . . . I'm just taking advantage of you, and I-I just can't do that to you Lily."  
  
"This has nothing to do with anything, just. . . please?" She pressed her lips against his and he felt himself weaken. She broke the kiss and let her lips travel down his neck. He was like putty in her hands, and he knew that. If she asked him to jump the moon he would, or die trying.  
  
Her lips had somehow traveled back to his mouth.  
  
She began walking towards the stairs, not breaking the kiss.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked, his mouth still connected to hers.  
  
She broke the kiss and ran up the stairs, and he followed. She ran down the narrow hall, and he followed. She opened the door to his room, and he, hesitantly, followed. She kissed him again, and he followed her lead.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Travis.  
  
I let the name ring through my head.  
  
I like doing this.  
  
It gives me a feeling of who I might be. An identity.  
  
A fake I.D.  
  
Travis.  
  
I wouldn't mind being this Travis person. 


	4. Let Me Die

I am just plain awesome. Praise me. Okay, enough praising for today. Save some for tomorrow. Thank you guys, seriously. You guys who are responding, whether or not you're actually reading makes this weirdo's heart glad. Please don't praise me, I was just joking.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
  
They fell on his bed in a whirl of limbs. Entangled.  
  
"Please. . . just. . . " she moaned, but he got the message. He kissed her harder and felt her smile under his lips. But something was still wrong. Wrong.  
  
Her hands traveled to the bottom of his shirt. Wrong.  
  
She pulled it over his head. Wrong.  
  
Her lips traveled down his body and rested just above his belly button. Wrong.  
  
He brought her back up to him. Wrong.  
  
He tugged at the bottom of her shirt. WRONG!  
  
He broke away and stood up, flustered. Lily looked at him as if he were crazy. "What the HELL-"  
  
"Lily, just listen to me, I-I can't."  
  
"Ray-"  
  
"Look, you're upset, grieving, preparing for a potential loss. We haven't slept in over a day, none of us have. You're looking for an out, and I can't-I won't give it to you."  
  
Lily looked at him, shocked and angry. "What-whatever, just leave, I want to go to sleep."  
  
"Lily I-"  
  
"LEAVE!"  
  
So he left, and the fantasy was over. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I REMEMBER!  
  
At least a little, at least a part of my life that I hadn't known before.  
  
My name is Travis. Travis Strong.  
  
When I was five, my mother. . . she wore a white flowered dress. It was supposed to be her favorite, but she rarely wore it outside of the house.  
  
We were at a park, my first park.  
  
I was a weird kid. I was afraid of heights and would scream if put in a situation that I was more than five feet off the ground.  
  
Enough height to be carried.  
  
My father forced me to go on the slide. I didn't want to.  
  
It had to have been at least twenty-five feet!  
  
But my dad was very persuasive, and I ended up going on the slide.  
  
I remember the whooshing feeling as I slid. I screamed the whole way down.  
  
And then I landed in my mother's arms. She had caught me.  
  
I laughed then. And then she laughed.  
  
And then I went down the slide again. I slid down that slide too many times to count. And at the end of the day, my dad took a picture of me and my mom under a big oak tree.  
  
A picture that lies around my seat in Radio Free Roscoe!  
  
It's all starting to make sense. The pieces of the puzzle are putting themselves together and the darkness is getting lighter. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
  
Doctor Nelson was young. Too young to be doing this.  
  
He worked in a place filled to the brim with death.  
  
He wasn't sure how much more he could handle.  
  
He wondered what about the medical world attracted him at first. Maybe it was the fact that he when he was younger, he thought the idea of getting paid to play with dead bodies was cool.  
  
He shuddered. What kind of sick childhood had he had?  
  
His coffee was failing in its job to keep him awake, and he was beginning to feel himself nod off into dreamland. He smiled; he hadn't slept in so long. . .  
  
"Doctor Nelson!" Travis Strong's nurse yelled. He felt his head slide off his hand and hit the desk. His stale coffee spilled over the edge of the desk  
  
"Damn," he said, rubbing his head. He lifted his head and looked the old woman in the face.  
  
"We've got a problem with Travis." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I'm suffocating.  
  
As the details get clearer in my mind my body becomes more responsive. I can feel what they are doing, and it hurts.  
  
They shove things in my arm, and stick other things in my mouth and nose.  
  
Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!  
  
I'd rather die. Please just let me die.  
  
I don't want to remember anymore.  
  
Physically, as the pain gets worse, the people surrounding me get louder.  
  
And the memories cause more pain.  
  
One memory just makes me want to die.  
  
Please, just let me die. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Woo! Full week off baby! Isn't life great? Okay, not the best thing to say after "please just let me die" but you get the point right? I get a whole week off! I get a whole week off! *Does Happy Dance* It's the little things that make life great. . . like a whole week off! 


	5. Aftermath

**Writer's block is EVIL!  I had no idea where to go from the last chapter.  **

**I DO know where I wanna go with how Travis got sick, but it will take a while to explain, ITS COMING!**

**I apologize if this chapter is confusing and dumb and not good.  **

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Waking up the next morning was like being woken up with a sledgehammer to her head.

She didn't feel like moving, it was just so much more comfortable to lie here in this unfamiliar bed and pretend that life was good.

But that's all it was.  Pretend.

The memories started to flood back, and suddenly she felt as though the once comfortable unfamiliar bed was repelling her away.

And then it all hit her.  Before.  With Ray.

The door swung open and she felt her face flush.  "Hey," she muttered and turned her head.  It was too awkward to look at him.

"Hey," Ray repeated.  He walked over to his dresser and took out some clothes.  "Just came in here to get some clothes, gotta shower."

"Yeah," she said shyly.

"I didn't think you'd be awake, I'm sorry, I'll just leave now." 

"No—can we…talk?"

"'Bout what?"

"Well, y'know, last night…and everything."

"Actually, it was more like this morning, you've been asleep for about ten hours.  It's six now."

"PM?"

"Yeah."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.  

"So…" Ray said.  "You wanted to talk?" she nodded sheepishly, "so, uh, no word yet on Travis, but…uh…Robbie called and he sounds…refreshed."

"That's kinda not what I meant, but that's good, about Robbie I mean, and I guess, with Travis, no news is good news, right?"  He nodded, "right," she answered herself.

"So…" he avoided her eyes. "about this morning, it was all my fault, and I just wanted to say Lily," he sighed deeply, as if the thought of the morning that almost was, caused him pain, "Lily, my god, from the bottom of my heart I am so sorry."

"We didn't…uh…" Ray shook his head.  "Oh," she said.

"Oh," he repeated.

"Me too." She said softly, "I'm sorry."

"So we're…uh…both sorry."

"Looks like it."

"So…uh…Robbie went over the air today and apologized to everyone that, y'know, we couldn't be there."

"Really?"  he nodded.

"Lily, um…" 

"What?"

"I was just wondering,"

"What?"

"Do…uh…do you want to take the first shower?  Our hot water is a little faulty and only one of us can take a thirty minute shower at once."  
            "Oh, sure."

"I'll have to show you how it works, it's a little confusing," 

"Okay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm nine years old again.  

In a brand new tuxedo for some benefit my dad had to attend.

My mom and I always hated those stuffy events.  It was not unusual to see us walking around the block looking for an ice cream store or something.

She looked nervous and held me closer than I ever remember. 

The block was empty and there was no ice cream store.  There wasn't anything.

My mind wandered back to that morning when my parents had received a letter.  They looked so upset and nervous and angry.  I had never seen my parents so angry.

I always liked getting mail.  It usually contained birthday money from my grandparents or soccer magazines.  I didn't see what was so upsetting about a stupid letter.

Mom wanted to stay home.  To just stay home and watch T.V. and eat moose track ice cream.

Moose tracks was my favorite.

But Dad had insisted.  He said that security would be extremely tight at the benefit.  Home would be too obvious.

Whatever 'tight security' meant.

I heard a click in the distance, and my mother held me tighter.

She began to whisper.  I don't think she even knew what she was saying, it was just a nervous instinct. 

"Don't trust those damn cops.  Gotta hide.  Gotta hide Travis.  Keep him safe.  Don't touch my baby, not my sweet little baby boy."

I was beginning to get scared.  She was gripping me too tightly, I couldn't breathe.  She kissed my head and reassured me.

Another click in the distance, only this one was less distant.  

Were we being followed?

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sounds around me.  I heard footsteps.

A brick building loomed over us, with a huge dumpster on the side of it.  My mother laughed and walked over to it.

"Mom what are you-"

She shushed me vehemently.  I felt her hand slide under my arms and she picked me up.

"Mom I don't wanna-"

She shushed me again.  And I felt my body go limp as she placed me inside the disgusting dumpster.

Then all was dark.

I don't remember much after that.

I remember my mother's high-heeled footsteps running in the other direction.

Then I remember screaming.  And in the screaming I could hear words.

"TRAVIS!  TRAVIS I LOVE YOU BABY!  GO!  LEAVE!  I LOVE YOU AND I ALWAYS WILL!  EVEN WHEN I'M GONE I WILL ALWAYS LO—"

And in two loud bangs the screaming stopped.  And I was left on my own again.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wanted an excuse.  He desperately needed an excuse to hold her, to touch her, it was slowly becoming an obsession.  The thought of her in his shower, it was too much to bear.  He was becoming a nervous wreck.  

Ray needed something to distract him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the phone ring.

"Oddly convenient," he muttered, unaware that he had said it aloud.

He picked up the phone, a little nervous about what the call may hold.

"Hey, it's Robbie."

"Yeah, hey."

"Are you going to the hospital anytime today?"

"Yeah, maybe later.  I need a break right now."

"Can't disagree with you there." Robbie said lightly, "so is Lily there?  I called her house about an hour ago and no one answered.  Maybe she was just asleep."

"She slept at my house."

"Oh, cool.  So you got any phone calls from the hospital?"

"Why would the hospital call us?  We're friends, not family."

"Then how will we know if there's any news?"

"Maybe Mr. Strong will tell us, or we can call the hospital."

"Yeah, right."

 "Are you coming over?  I kinda need to tell you something."

"Yeah, sure."

"I feel like I need to warn you.  You will freak out once you hear this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My dad got married on my eleventh birthday.

I did not like the lady.

She smelled like a mixture of pineapples and my gym socks.

Plus, she wasn't good to me.

She tried.  She tried to make me like her.

She bought me toys, she bought me whatever I wanted.  She let me do whatever I wanted.

But she wasn't what I wanted.

She looked at me as if I was this little kid to be pitied.

I had a good life.  My mother was dead, but otherwise I had a good life.

I couldn't explain my feelings toward this woman, but I didn't trust her.

I was no red-headed stepchild.

I wanted to be a normal eleven year old.

            But it just wasn't that simple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robbie was a little confused.  So after he had left the hospital, Lily and Ray started making out in the waiting room.  Then Lily came home with Ray, where they continued this little make out session and almost…

"Yeah, I told you it would sound a little weird."

Robbie narrowed his eyes, "but you…didn't…"

"No!"

Robbie leaned back in his chair and exhaled deeply.  "Good, because you know you would just be using her."

"No duh."  Ray leaned forward in his chair, "but now…now that I know what it's like, to kiss her…to hold her.  I can't…I just can't function."

Robbie was confused again, "Where is Lily?"

"Oh, she went home to get some clean clothes."  

Robbie yawned.

"How much sleep did you get anyway?"  Ray asked.

"About five hours.  That's usually how much I get on a school night."

"You can go take a nap if you want.  I am later."

"Thanks man, but I'm way too stressed."

"So, was it weird being in the station?"

"You have no idea."

"I can imagine."

"No, You can't.  You weren't there.  You see all these things that Travis did or made, and you know that it was because of Travis that all that stuff is there.  And that if anything happens…that you…that it won't be the same anymore."

The pause that followed this statement was too much to handle.  Robbie and Ray were both sick of the awkward silences. "I don't want things to change, man."

"None of us do.  But they may have to."


	6. Old Answers

AN: I know, I know. I deserve to be booed right off this board. I don't deserve the reviews I've gotten! I'm a bad cliff-hanger leaver! Can you ever forgive me? What if I give you another chapter? Alright, here it is, the much anticipated chapter 6. I'm not its biggest fan, but I thought that I couldn't leave you guys forever.

You can flame me as much as you want, I deserve it!:( I can't guarantee that I won't ever take a nice long hiatus (I like that word), but hopefully you will never EVER have to wait over THIRTEEN MONTHS!

Disclaimer: Until the deal goes all the way through, I don't own RFR…yet.

The quote to remember is: "I've traveled all over the world, memorized 100 digits of pi (haha, he beat you Jarod! Lol!), but I've never told anyone I love them before."

* * *

Dr. Nelson peered wearily into the room of his patient, mentally hoping to find it empty. He couldn't help but smile as he realized the room was empty 

Well…almost.

The kid looked swelled slightly, his face an ugly shade of purple. Nelson, happy to see him alive, picked up the chart at the end of the bed and looked it over.

Travis Strong.

Fifteen.

Nelson looked up quickly and glanced into the boy's face, realizing for the first time that he looked older than fifteen. More mature.

He returned his attention back to the chart.

It didn't surprise him that under pre-existing conditions, the words 'teenage depression' were written big and bold.

Because at the bottom, in words smaller than those, read the words 'attempted suicide.'

Of course he knew this already.

In fact, now that he thought about it, he didn't even know why he had even come in here.

So he left, and Travis couldn't tell the difference.

* * *

I'm dizzy. 

But somehow, those words don't describe the depth of what I'm feeling.

It's really more a severe nausea, caused by experiencing my childhood all over again, caused by my guilt.

And visions sweep my mind's eye. Of broken bones, of kisses, of goodnight stories that left me with a feeling that life was fair. But as despair washes over me, I find that I can't help but smile as my mother picks me up and swings my feet over the ground.

But as soon as old memories are imprinted in my mind, new ones come to replace it. Challenging what I know. Challenging what is real.

It has left me reeling. Hoping that I can just sit down and make sense of it all. Sit down and reach for the memories that make me smile. But sitting is difficult, as there are no chairs, no floor to support me.

Which means that I'm flying, somehow.

Which means I'm pining for the ground.

Pining…a strange word to describe something that we severely want. The word 'pine' creates the vision of a tree…of Christmas…of green branches that never fade…

Until they die.

* * *

Ray's grin was forced, as were a lot of things recently. 

But Robbie realized that he could fake nothing anymore. What he knew, or had known, had been tested.

And fallen to the floor dejectedly.

So, maybe he was being overdramatic, but nothing felt right anymore. There was a churning in his stomach and a gag reflex in his throat that wouldn't leave him. And he didn't want it to leave him. He didn't want anything to leave him. Or anyone.

He felt abandoned. Like things were changing and he had no control over them.

And in an instant he hated himself. He kicked violently and screamed, but nothing happened, so he kept quiet, and waited for this moment of insecurity to pass.

But it didn't.

Ray was still talking. Every once in a while, Robbie would tune in and catch a few words of what he was saying. Most of it was nonsense. A nonstop blather that would keep his mind away from his current troubles.

But sometimes he would hit a nerve.

"You know that if we get our good news things aren't going to go away. I don't know if I can ever look at him the same way. It's gonna be like 'Hey Trav, you feelin' better?' and being me that'll be the wrong thing to say, and he might try to do this again. What if he does it again?"

Ray continued talking, and laughed at some bad joke he had told, but Robbie had tuned out. The knot in his stomach grew and he suddenly felt the need to throw up. He held it in, and chanced a glance at Ray, whose mouth was moving a mile a minute. He imagined how would feel if it had been Ray in Travis' place.

And felt sick for even thinking it.

And also like the world around him were being torn down.

He ran to the bathroom, but it was too late. He threw up all over the linoleum of Ray's kitchen.

* * *

_Close your eyes_. 

I heard her voice in the distance. It made me nauseous.

_Close your eyes, baby._

She began tugging at me. I felt her cool breath on my shoulder.

_Just close your eyes and it'll all be okay._

And suddenly my feet left the ground, and I was flying.

_Trust me baby, you'll feel better once you just close your eyes_.

She carried me across the purple mountains. Over the wall that divided myself. I begged her to take me down. Take me to the wall…

_Close your eyes._

It came as a final whisper.

And then she dropped me. Dropped me into my mother's arms on a cold Christmas day. I felt warm and loved.

My mother read me a book about Buddhism. How Buddha had been reincarnated and…and…I couldn't think anymore. I simply reveled in the feeling that came with my mother's touch.

I had missed that feeling. It was like breathing in fresh summer air. It was like walking barefoot in tall grass.

It was almost like living.

_Almost._

* * *

Lily watched as the snowflakes made their long journey to the ground. She grinned, then giggled, sticking her tongue out to catch some of the elusive flakes on her tongue. 

The wind picked up, and Lily pulled Ray's warm red coat tight around her chest. She shivered and retreated her tongue as a fat flake fell on her cheek.

Ray's coat. She sighed and inhaled deeply, letting his scent linger in her mind. She felt warm and safe, and suddenly happy, knowing that Ray was near her.

Even though he wasn't.

A car made a sharp turn as she reached the crosswalk, spraying her with soggy slush. She grated her teeth as the coldness of it slipped under the coat, leaving her chilled. And the euphoric feeling that clouded her mind left instantly.

And bleaker thoughts replaced it.

She dropped the grin she had been wearing and scowled.

How could she be so selfish?

She gazed down at the white ground, the footsteps marring it's smooth surface. Turned into a dull brown slush by the passers-by.

She pulled the coat tight once more, trying to shake off the last of her chills. She shook the hair from her face and turned the cap that she wore on her head backwards.

Then she did something that even she did not anticipate.

She screamed.

She screamed for herself. She screamed for Ray. She screamed for Robbie, and the Strongs, and for her guilt. Her guilt, her shame, her anger and annoyance, any emotion that had shown itself in her mind was now being released by way of her mouth.

But most of all she screamed for Travis.

Several people poked their heads out of their windows and glared at her. But she didn't care.

She screamed until she could scream no more.

And finally, weak, tired, her throat hoarse, she turned and walked, emotionless, to the place she affectionately called home.

* * *

I returned from that haunting, but beautiful place to the conscious paralysis where people would talk to me, and I couldn't talk back. That didn't seem to faze them, and they spoke more candidly to me in this state than they ever had before. It was scary, and made me feel powerful. 

But I was so weak.

I heard a deep gruff unfamiliar voice say in a tone almost gloatingly, "he's stabilized." Were they talking about me?

Then the hushed whispers of a passing woman. Her voice was like music, but she didn't sing. And in one deafening moment of pain, she was gone.

Then there was a voice I never expected to hear again. It was deep and filled with a sorrow that made it almost inaudible. It made me want to return to the purple mountains, even to the dizzying memories. To the place filled with pain and sweating and writhing that I couldn't make myself feel.

It didn't say much. In fact, I only heard three words before beginning to slip beneath the purple mist.

"I'm sorry, Travis."

Then he sighed. The mist was turning black. I was pulling away to some darker place.

"It wasn't your fault." His voice broke.

His voice became fainter; I could barely hear him over the beating of my own heart.

But he said one last thing that made my heart stop, if only for a second.

"I love you, Travis."

I love you too, Dad.


End file.
